


That Nightmare Combination

by gingasaur



Category: Murphy Brown (TV), West Wing
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Pranks and Practical Jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-06
Updated: 2008-07-06
Packaged: 2017-10-15 18:39:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/163730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingasaur/pseuds/gingasaur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They're planning something. I can feel it, Sam. This is something I can <i>feel</i>."</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Nightmare Combination

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [soaked_in_stars](http://soaked-in-stars.livejournal.com/) way back in the days of yore. And by the days of yore, I mean about 3 years ago.

"Are you really sure he'll just... fall for it like that?"

"Oh, ye of little faith. How is it that _you_ , of all people, are saying something like that after all these years?"

"Hey, I know it was easy five years ago, but that was five years ago! He seems a lot less... I don't know, he seems a lot less 'gettable' now."

Andy puts a hand over her mouth in an attempt to stifle her laughter. She fails miserably. "Murphy, if there's one thing I know about my ex-husband," she says with a smirk, "it's that he's even _more_ 'gettable' now than he was five years ago."

\---

"They're planning something. I can feel it, Sam. This is something I can _feel_."

"Who's... who's doing what now?"

"I said they're planning something, Sam. They're gonna get me."

"Who's gonna get you?"

"Somewhere... somehow... it's gonna happen. They're gonna get me."

"Toby, what are you even talking about?"

Toby takes a quick glance around the parking garage as he shifts his cell phone from one shoulder to the other. "They're going to _get me, Sam,_ " he says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "I don't like it when they do that."

"Okay," Sam sighs. His voice is a little muffled just then; he must've put his hand over his face in exasperation. "I'm gonna go ahead and ask you something that might sound a little stupid, but you can just humor me."

"Okay," Toby says, turning around to take a good look behind him as he walks.

"You _do_ realize that you haven't mentioned any names at any point during this conversation, right?"

"What?" Toby's still hopelessly distracted, and he jumps slightly when he _thinks_ he hears something scurry across the floor.

"You seem pretty convinced that at least two people, maybe more, are going to come and 'get you'. Since you haven't mentioned any names, I'm just working with visions of the Boogeyman here, so maybe you should help me out a little."

"Two somebody's," Toby replies. "Two of them."

"And their names would be...?"

Toby doesn't immediately reply. In fact, he doesn't really reply at all. Sam gives it a few moments before he taps on the mouthpiece. "Toby. Toby, are 'they' dragging you away right now? If they are, you should probably tell me so I can call for help."

"They met each other a few years ago." Toby blurts it out suddenly, as if he's trying to speak his final words before it's too late. "Not long after we got married, I think. But I don't know where or why they first met or... or what evil spirits came together to let it happen in the first place."

"All right, you're really starting to freak me out now."

" _My ex-wife!_ " Toby suddenly says. His voice echoes against the walls of the garage, and it's much louder than he ever intended it to be. He curses to himself and brings the phone very close to his mouth. "My ex-wife," he hisses, "and our least-favorite intrepid reporter."

"Are you implying that we even _have_ a fa-"

Toby doesn't quite know what to make of it when Sam suddenly stops talking in the middle of his sentence. He flips the phone over, checking to see if he's still connected, and he is.

"Sam," he whispers.

"Yeah," Sam replies, his voice considerably softer now. "Yeah, I'm here. I'm just, uh... having a little difficulty."

"With what?"

"With the... speed from which the color drained from my face."

 _Now_ he gets it. Toby would've smirked had the situation been any different.

"How do you even know that they're-"

"She _told me_ ," Toby interrupts. "Andy _called_ me and told me that they'd just had 'a great little lunch date'. She was... she was _taunting_ me with it, dangling it in front of me like some kind of..."

His thoughts lose all kind of coherence as soon as he lays eyes on his car. His car, his glorious car, his ticket to freedom and safety, sitting right there in front of him like some kind of shining beacon of hope. It's all he can do to resist sprinting to it, so instead he settles for a swift jog.

"They did that all the time," he continues. "Somewhere along the line they thought it would be funny to start pulling pranks on me, and every time they were in the same room, it would happen. Every time, Sam!"

"I don't doubt that," Sam says, his voice laced with mortal terror.

"So they're gonna get me, Sam. They're gonna get me, and they're gonna get me soon."

"They're gonna get you _soon,_ " Sam agrees.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Toby reaches his car and immediately begins fumbling for his keys. But as he desperately searches his coat pockets, he hears something.

Or rather, he hears _someone_.

He hears someone _snickering._

"Oh, God," he says. "They're here."

"What?!" Sam asks. "Are you- are they- _do you need help?!_ "

"I don't know, I don't know," Toby says as his hands furiously pat down his coat like it's on fire. "But somebody's laughing, and it sure as hell isn't Andy."

Suddenly his fingers brush against metal, and he desperately grabs at what he hopes are his keys. Luckily for him, they jingle as he pulls them out, and with a huge sense of relief washing over him, he unlocks the door and shoots inside. He can hear a definite increase in the volume of the snickering, so he shuts the door as fast as he can and makes absolutely sure that he's locked it before he allows himself to exhale.

There's movement out of the corner of his eye, and he's a little startled when he looks over and out the passenger window and sees _them_ , smiling at him and waving pleasantly.

And then... something sinks in, and it sinks in quite literally. He slowly and cautiously fidgets a little in his seat, and freezes when he hears a very quiet squishing sound.

He looks over at Andy and Murphy again. They're still staring at him and smiling, like he's an exhibit at the National Zoo.

"Toby? Toby!" He hears Sam's worried voice over the phone, and brings it to his ear once more. "Toby, are you there?!"

"I'm here," he says, continuing to gaze through the window at his assailants.

"Are you okay?" Sam asks. "What happened?"

"Well," Toby says, "I made it to my car." His heart slowly sinks into his stomach as he watches Murphy and Andy go about high-fiving each other.

The way Toby says it isn't right, though; Sam can sense the impending 'but'. "But?" he offers, and waits with bated breath for the response.

Toby shifts again. The soft squish is still there.

"But it smells like strawberries," he says with a sigh, "and this car doesn't have cooling seats. So I'd say there's about a 90% chance that I'm sitting in Jell-o right now."


End file.
